[Daemon stands, and Rhaenyra is still in his arms. This feels good. Powerful. He is not the man he was two hours ago, waking naked in the woods. He is not the man he was an hour after, desperately torturing a farmboy for information. He is a prince kneeling; he is a king standing. This is his wife, and he will make her his again.]
[He turns his head, sucking at the sweet skin of her throat. She was seventeen when she married Laenor, wasn't she? A maiden, or so close it barely counts. His people inside the castle had whispered something about moon tea as a precaution, but that could have meant anything.]
[He'll be powerful when he has her again, and, the truth is, he needs her. If he's going to make this place his, it will be theirs. He'll watch her strength bloom within her, and it will be his inspiration.]
[He carries her into the trees.] Tell me what you want, my queen.
cw torture mention, virginity fetishism.
[He turns his head, sucking at the sweet skin of her throat. She was seventeen when she married Laenor, wasn't she? A maiden, or so close it barely counts. His people inside the castle had whispered something about moon tea as a precaution, but that could have meant anything.]
[He'll be powerful when he has her again, and, the truth is, he needs her. If he's going to make this place his, it will be theirs. He'll watch her strength bloom within her, and it will be his inspiration.]
[He carries her into the trees.] Tell me what you want, my queen.